Nozomi didn't like to call them nightmares. They were never like what she'd read in books or seen on TV shows. There was never any big bad guy chasing her, never any of those fear-for-her life situations, and that made it all seem so trivial in comparison.

It was so similar each time. In the dark, sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair and staring off into nothing. Sometimes she was a little kid again, feet kicking back and forth under the chair, humming some tune her mother would sing the few times she would be around the house. Other times she was the adult she became, feet planted on the invisible ground with a firm confidence learned from a partner she'd often see.

Then she would see something. If she were little it was her mother, back turned and attention forward, without a second thought of looking back. If she were grown it was Honoka, still facing away with no intentions of searching out Nozomi. Her mother's back was always solemn, shoulders slumped with what Nozomi hoped was regret. Honoka ran forward with a cheer unique to her. Each always carried with it an uneasiness of the stomach and indescribable fear.

Indescribable not because of the depth of fear, but for how irrational it all was. Nozomi was well aware that despite her sparse contact with her mother, and how often she'd seen the same sight in real life, she could never question that she was loved. Even with short phone calls and the couple night stays, her mother never let her forget.

Honoka was the same. There was never a moment their mutual love could be doubted, even if early on Nozomi tried her hardest to. Honoka wouldn't allow those feelings to bud, pulled out before they could even take root. A cheerful girl that brought with her an unquestioning love. Nozomi knew that, and she thought those questions were something left in the past.

But the dreams wouldn't let her forget. A fear of being abandoned cultivated in an unfortunate circumstance that stuck even years later. Not a nightmare. Nightmares were things that were truly scary. This was just her mind being dumb, and not letting her forget. That was it, nothing to bother others with.

The dark living room and cold leather couch were where she found solace on those kinds of nights. The sweating, the pounding of her heart, and the stupid, fear-laced thoughts that bored their way into her head were the most common reactions. The quickest remedy a few minutes alone in the dark and cold. Not the best remedy, that was Honoka, but she was sleeping, and how could Nozomi wake her for something so trivial?

The ceiling fan whirred, but the room was quiet. Sweaty palms were no good at wiping an equally sweaty brow, and a heart that wouldn't calm didn't help. So preoccupied with her own condition, Nozomi hadn't heard the bedroom door creak open.

"What's wrong?"

Nozomi looked up, and there was Honoka, rubbing her eyes with pajama sleeves a bit too long with a drawn-out yawn. Cute, but Nozomi couldn't focus with her mind preoccupied.

"I'm fine. Got a little hot and couldn't sleep so I thought I'd sit out here for a bit."

A lie and Nozomi hated that she'd even try. She knew better.

Honoka frowned with half-lidded eyes. "How long have we been together?"

Nozomi shirked back into the couch. "Five years."

"And you think I can't tell when something's wrong?" Honoka waited for a response that never came, but she knew the answer already. "We aren't in high school anymore. I've gotten better at this, and you obviously aren't okay."

"I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't lie to you." Nozomi looked down at her legs, hating what these dreams did, casting doubt on something she considered perfect in her trust of Honoka's love. Gnawing her lip, she continued. "I just got scared and needed a few minutes."

Honoka plopped down on the couch, shoulder to shoulder with Nozomi, head lolling to the side in her tired haze. "Was it that dream again?"

"Yeah."

The quiet was back, but the fear started to subside. A warm shoulder at her side brought respite to Nozomi's beating heart. She could count on Honoka for things like this, that was never a question up for any debate, and she took time to relish in it. Simple contact with a woman she loved more than she ever thought possible brought with it a calm that was irreplaceable. Sappy, and Nozomi didn't dare think how Nico would tease if she knew, but she wasn't one to care.

Feelings that were so overwhelming seconds ago were gone with a touch. Nozomi didn't think as she put an arm around Honoka's waist and pulled in. A stupid thought of being abandoned forced out by affection. That was the effect Honoka had, and Nozomi held onto it, knowing it wasn't going away. It was what made the thoughts so irrational in the first place.

"Feel better?" Honoka asked, eyes closed and cheek on Nozomi's shoulder.

Nozomi kissed the top of Honoka's head. "I do."

"Good." A deep breath as Honoka snuggled in closer. Tired voice barely above a whisper. "And you know I'm never leaving you, right? I told you when we moved in together that you're stuck with me forever, and I love ya a whole bunch."

Nozomi knew. It was what made the dreams trivial. Despite all the fear, scary thoughts, and bad memories, she was loved. A mind that tried its hardest to pull back years old insecurities was fought back by people who cared.

"I know, Honoka. Thanks." As Nozomi answered, Honoka's breath lulled into a slow rhythm with eyes closed. She didn't waste time following suit, head leaning onto her love's, arm still around that warm body. "I love you a bunch, too."